Crew, Page 20

  Even Ava seemed to be waiting.

  Then Z coughed, a look in his eyes mirroring what I'd felt. He ducked his head a bit, sneaking a look at me from under his eyelashes. "I'll write you as 'pfs girl'." His grin was sly. "Pretty fucking sexy."

  I frowned. I'd expected a different response, but shrugged. It was what it was.

  "Thanks, Z."

  Seeing the girl's embarrassment, Zellman took pity and offered the pad back. "I'm just giving you a hard time. I don't mean anything by it. Really."

  She reached out cautiously. When he didn't snatch the pad away, she took it, and her smile seemed less mortified. "Thank you."

  We weren't all just tough, just about sex, just about fighting, just about being loyal to each other. There was more. We didn't show it often, but we could be kind too. Zellman had just proven that.

  Pride bloomed in me, and as the girl started taking our orders, a lot less nervous now, Zellman caught my eye. He motioned towards his phone and I pulled mine out, seeing a text from him.

  Pretty fucking smart.

  I got choked up. Legit.

  He gave me his half-grin, and I typed back, thanx.

  For some reason, it didn't seem such a hardship to be here right now.

  Channing asked as we were leaving dinner, "Going home? Want a ride?"

  Cross spoke up, "I got her."

  They shared a look before Channing nodded slowly. "Yeah. Okay."

  He and Moose headed to his truck, while the rest of us hung back.

  Jordan rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Uh. Yeah." He and Z glanced at each other. "We're, uh... We're going to head back in. Is that okay?"

  Most of the Normals had still been there when we left--especially the girls. As the families headed home, their table had just gotten louder. I'd stopped by once after returning from the bathroom, and Taz had told me the girls were hanging around as long we did.

  "They want the guys to come over," she'd explained.

  So I wasn't surprised.

  Cross nodded. "That's cool. We'll see you guys tomorrow."

  "What are you two going to do?"

  I had no plans, so I waited for Cross to say.

  He shrugged. "We'll figure something out."

  Jordan grinned. "It's just nine thirty. You guys could do homework. Study for tomorrow. Be good students."

  Zellman laughed.

  Cross smirked. "We're already good students."

  "Speak for yourself." I shook my head.

  Smart students, maybe. Good students, no. Well, for me. I was in agreement with Jordan on that one.

  As soon as they went back inside, I went with Cross to his truck. I'd left my Jeep at the house.

  Once we were going, he noted, "You were quiet tonight."

  I yawned, slouching down in my seat, getting comfortable. "I'm fine."

  "You sure?"

  I nodded. I was. I didn't know why, but I was. Rolling my head toward him, I asked, "Where are we headed?"

  "I thought maybe we'd go to our spot."

  Oh.

  "That sound okay with you?"

  It wasn't the same as the pride I'd felt at dinner, but another warm sensation flooded me. I knew I was smiling, and I was staring, and I didn't care. Going to our spot would be the perfect ending to the night.

  I said as much. "I think that sounds great."

  We both fell silent until we'd settled in to watch over my old house.

  As I curled down next to Cross, my eyes growing heavy, I couldn't help but think that tonight had been one of the best I'd had in a while.

  "What are you doing with my cousin?"

  Two days later, I was grabbing my books out of my locker when Alex came up behind me. Deja vu hit me, hard.

  I turned around. This couldn't be right.

  He couldn't be asking me that question.

  Nope. It was.

  "Are you kidding me?" I growled, slamming my locker shut.

  My response quieted the entire hallway. My needle that went from caring, to kinda caring, to beyond caring, to not giving a shit--it went straight from lying dormant all the way to soo not giving a shit. It didn't matter who watched this scene play out, because it was high-time something happened to Alex.

  "You're in my face?!" I asked him. "After what your crew did?"

  He glowered back at me, looking like he'd been forced to seek me out and wanted to be anywhere else. His forehead creased. "I got my ass kicked on two occasions now because of you. That has to count for something. My own cousin beat me up."

  I closed my eyes and waited. I counted to five before I looked at him again.

  "You're an idiot. Are you aware of that?"

  Alex tipped his head back.

  Yes. Apparently, I was the one irritating him. So silly of me.

  I was starting to feel a little reckless. It'd been nagging me, for reasons I didn't understand. Maybe I'd been waiting to be called to the office after the teacher/security video thing earlier this week. Or maybe all the stuff with Cross had filled my head with confusing thoughts and more confusing feelings. Or maybe it was because I'd been watching this fucker walk around the school, and every day that he thought he got away with hurting me, he got more and more cocky.

  "Alex, do you know what your problem is?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "Because you do have one, and that's why you're tangling with my crew. It's not actually me."

  "Yeah, it is." He flicked a hand toward me, short and dismissive. "It's because you're in a crew, you're in that crew, and you're a female. I wouldn't have these problems if you were a guy."

  I'd expected an idiotic response. I got an asinine one instead. Goddamn, he was pissing me off. Anger rolled over in my stomach, but I didn't move.

  If I moved, I'd attack.

  "You are the reason the term victim-blaming was created," I said slowly.

  He frowned. "Huh?"

  I couldn't. Not today.

  Calm down, Bren. Calm down.

  He gave me a look. "I know your crew is looking to work us over. I got that coming. I know that. I'm okay with it. I started both fights, so we get the payback. But my question stands. What are you doing with my cousin?"

  "You're all caring and concerned now?"

  Alex shrugged. "I can just tell. Something's off with him, and the only thing he's had a crab crawled up his ass about is you and your crew." He crossed his arms over his chest. "So what is it? What'd you do?"

  I could only stare for a moment. Then I laughed. I cursed in my head. And I went back to laughing. I finished up by shaking my head. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  "I--"

  I shot forward, shoving my face right in his. "You touch me without permission. You touch me a second time without permission. You and your crew jump me. Then you come up to me and ask what I did to your cousin?" My hand flexed. I wanted to shove him into the lockers so bad, but that'd be a fight. My ribs ached at the thought of it.

  I looked him up and down. "Here's a solid piece of advice from me. Don't think for yourself. Find someone smart, and every time you have to make a decision or have to figure something out, ask them. Then go with what they say. Get a new brain, because you're on a bad path--for yourself and your crew." I wanted to say more, throw the drug business in there. But I kept quiet. I had to.

  That was for later, much later.

  His eyes went flat. "What'd you say?"

  "You heard me."

  "Say it again." His nostrils flared.

  "I'll do better." My smile wasn't pretty. "You're a hothead. You didn't earn your spot. You inherited it, and you're pissing it away. If your crew doesn't check you, the rest of us will."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah." I narrowed my eyes.

  He was in my face now. I stood my ground, willing myself not to lunge at him. I could slice him, get in a good nick on his side, and I didn't think my ribs would protest too much.

  "Do we have a problem here?"

  I cursed.

  Principal Neeon's voice boomed fr
om down the hallway. As soon as he spoke, everyone else in the hall stopped to look. Only a few had already been watching. Alex's crew was hanging back, shielding us from an audience. That was done now.

  People pulled out their phones.

  I guessed I had about a minute before someone from my crew showed up.

  "No problem, sir." Alex turned to face Neeon as he got to us, pushing through the crowd.

  "Why do I think that's total bullshit, along with the weird coincidence of our security videos losing an hour of footage the other day, the exact same day our guards were sent on a wild goose chase?" He stared at me.

  I didn't react. I didn't do anything.

  When we'd gone back to class that day, no one had said a thing. Mr. Jenston finished teaching the class like nothing happened. When the last bell sounded and we filed out, it was the twilight zone--eerily silent and calm. Word had gotten around, and I got looks as I walked to my second class.

  Cross told me after school that someone had said something by the end of the day. He'd walked past the office and saw staff bunched over the security video cabinet.

  Hearing Principal Neeon's words now, I knew they were aware something had happened, but they didn't quite know what to look for. Good. Because there was nothing for them to find.

  "Look, Mr. N, we were just talking," Alex said, motioning toward me. "You can't write us up for that."

  "I could write you up for having an attitude." His jaw clenched.

  I didn't know what Principal Neeon would or could do, but I sensed his desperation. There was rage in there too, just under the surface. I wondered, for the first time ever, if he'd get angry enough to go outside the system.

  No.

  I dismissed that idea. I was overreacting. He wouldn't do anything. He couldn't do anything... Unless... I noticed the phones pointing in our direction.

  Sick dread pooled at the bottom of my stomach.

  We hadn't been watching on Wednesday. Someone could've pulled out a phone. We could've been recorded. There could be evidence out there right now. It still might not show what had actually happened, but they wouldn't care. They never did.

  "Come on, Mr. N." Alex tried again. "We're just chilling."

  "Stop trying to bullshit me, Mr. Ryerson. I'm well aware of the confrontations between you and Miss Monroe lately." He pointed to the cameras in the corner. "Don't forget those are there. They're there for a reason--safety for the other students and for you all as well." His eyes lingered on me, falling to my ribs.

  "What's going on?"

  Jordan's voice now drew everyone's attention. He announced his presence as if he had the authority to be included in this conversation. It worked.

  Both Principal Neeon and Alex shifted, creating an opening for Jordan to step forward. He did, with Zellman right next to him. I glanced around and spotted Cross not far away--just behind Alex, leaning back against the locker on the other side of Taz's. It was the perfect attack position. He could jump and take Alex out if anything were to happen.

  "You're not a part of this conversation, Pitts."

  I almost laughed. Principal Neeon had allowed him in without realizing it.

  Jordan's face was blank. "You're right, Mr. N. I'm not, but Bren is like family to me, so you know how it is." He reached up, placing his hand on Principal Neeon's shoulder. "I'm sure you'd be concerned if it were your daughter."

  Oh no...

  Everyone paused for a moment. Just a moment. One peaceful moment, and I closed my eyes because I knew when I opened them, all hell would start.

  And it did.

  I looked again just as Principal Neeon knocked Jordan's hand away. He reached for his shirt, and in one motion, he picked Jordan up and slammed him against the locker. "Are you threatening my daughter?"

  I had to dive out of the way, saying a quick mental prayer that my ribs had healed fast.

  Jordan's back crashed into the metal, and Principal Neeon raised him off his feet. "Are you kidding me, you punk kid?! Who do you think you are?" His face was right in front of Jordan's. "What are you going to do? Hurt my daughter? Huh? HUH?!"

  "Hey. Whoa. Whoa." A strained laugh came from Jordan. He looked at Principal Neeon's hands for a moment. "I was asking if you'd be worried about your daughter in a situation like this." He bobbed his head toward me. "That's all."

  I'd moved out of the way, but not far, and I could feel Cross right behind me. We were sticking close, in case Jordan needed our help.

  "Hey, hey, hey!" Mr. Jenston tried to wade in through the sea of students gathered around us. Two of Ryerson's crew weren't moving. Mr. Jenston scowled, unable to get past them, and he finally took one and shoved him aside. His tie flapped back over his shoulder.

  "Robert." He straightened his tie, smoothed a hand down his shirt, and patted Mr. N's arm. "Let's let go of the student."

  "He threatened my daughter, Pat."

  Mr. J frowned, shooting Jordan a look, but moved to face Principal Neeon. "Come on, Robert. Think about this. You're physically manhandling a student. You know you have to let him go."

  "This little shit punk of a kid." The principal's hands tightened on Jordan's shirt, and he started to lean even closer. He shook his head. "You think you can do whatever you want? You went after one of us. Yeah. We heard the rumors. I don't give a shit if there's no evidence. You can't do that. You messed up real bad this week, you and your crew's slu--"

  "Hey!"

  I didn't know who said that, but it wasn't quick enough.

  I heard. I knew what he'd been about call me.

  It was enough.

  I understood his fear. I even understood the anger. He was a father. But what the principal just said about me? Or almost said. That crossed the line.

  That crossed my line.

  I felt myself falling back. I was pulling back.

  I recognized Jordan yelling. I felt Cross move so he was behind me. All around me, people were moving, shoving, yelling. But everything began to fade. I only saw red, and Principal Neeon was the center of my focus.

  I wasn't a slut.

  I wasn't his slut.

  I wasn't my crew's slut.

  I stopped thinking.

  My brain shut down. And I moved without thinking.

  I ducked, evaded, dodged, and then hit someone. I twisted an arm around.

  Hands grabbed at me, but I was rabid.

  I don't remember taking my knife out, but I did. I embedded it in someone's leg. They pawed at it, trying to yank it out. But I did that for them. I turned my back, switched the knife to my other hand, and slammed it back into that person.

  I.

  Wasn't.

  A.

  Slut.

  I wanted to keep stabbing, but someone shoved me back after I pulled the knife out a second time. Arms wrapped around me, and I started to fight, but Cross' voice grunted into my ear.

  "Stop. It's me. Stop."

  I did, for a moment, but I still wanted to lunge forward. I still wanted to use my knife, to cut what they'd said about me out of existence.

  I strained against Cross' hold, but he only tightened his arms.

  "Get her out of here!" Jordan roared.

  There was a swell of people, and Cross half-carried, half-dragged me away. They were all running the opposite way.

  The farther we got from the crowd, the more reality hit me.

  I'd stabbed someone. The icy cold feeling inside me tripled.

  I groaned, turning in Cross' arms. At that very moment, his hold morphed. He went from restraining and dragging me to comforting me. His hand cradled the back of my head. He was still moving us away, but I began shaking.

  I couldn't believe what I'd done. This meant jail.

  "Hey, hey." They were the same words he'd used not long ago, but he spoke them in a totally different manner. "Come on. Keep it together for a bit longer. Just a bit longer, okay?" His head dipped close, and I felt his lips on my neck. Then he resumed his movements, hustling me out of there.

&nb
sp; The outside air hit my back.

  Cross let me go, but he caught my hand, continuing to pull me forward. We were going to his truck.

  Once we got there, he opened the door and helped me in. He patted my leg, then shut the door. He was in on his side within a second, and we were pulling out of the lot.

  He drove away as two cop cars turned toward the school.

  That's when I lost it.

  I'd stabbed the principal.

  Cross and I talked once my head was clearer. I didn't know how long that had taken. It felt like hours, but it might've just been one. Time had started to blur. My shakes, the damned wet shit all over my face, and the trembling had subsided.

  Now we knew there was no other option. We had to make the smart move: We went to my brother.

  Cross called Channing and asked him to come home. While we were waiting for him, Jordan and Zellman called from the police station. They'd been arrested, along with Alex Ryerson and five of his crew members. There'd been a free-for-all after I let loose.

  Jordan dropped the bomb that both Principal Neeon and Mr. Jenston had been taken to the hospital. Then he dropped a second bomb: the principal was in police custody.

  "Are you serious?" I leaned over Cross to speak into his phone.

  "Swear to God," Jordan said. "I saw 'em put the handcuffs on him and everything. That fucker's going to get charged."

  Cross frowned. "Is Zellman with you?"

  "They have him in the same cell."

  I leaned back, and Cross grabbed my hand. He didn't look at me, but he laced our fingers together.

  I looked down at them, resting between us, and a feeling of "rightness" swept through me.

  It grew stronger and stronger with each touch, but since I was being all honest with myself--it'd been there since the beginning.

  Cross had been right. It had been just lust for Drake, not something more or something real. But this... Holding Cross' hand, I remembered all the times he'd been there for me, the nights I'd slept in his closet, how I always went to him.

  There was no wrong when it came to us.

  I looked up and saw him watching me, smiling faintly.

  I smiled back at him and tried to focus on whatever Jordan was saying.

  "...see, won't we?"

  A motorcycle engine roared outside the window. I didn't have to look. Channing had arrived.

  The front door banged open, and he stormed into the living room. Tearing off his sunglasses, he snapped, "Hang up."

  "We're talking to Jordan," I told him. "He has information from the police station."